


who says you’re not perfect?

by wolfwalkerspirit



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26591017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfwalkerspirit/pseuds/wolfwalkerspirit
Summary: “Sokka never thought he would be able to pry Zuko away from his work early enough to see him, their room, everything bathed in sunset. Most nights, it was torchlight that threw flickering shadows against the walls through the dark, or the pale threads of moonlight that managed to slip through the window. And while Zuko looked stunning in both, the harsher firelight catching on the lines of his jaw, his cheekbones, the moonlight unspooling in delicate silver to wash across his pale skin, there was nothing that could compare to seeing him at sunset. Especially when that came with the knowledge that he wasn’t working himself to death.”
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 156





	who says you’re not perfect?

A glaze of gold and amber poured in over the room, a wash of sunset hues spilling through the window. Everything seemed to glow with a soft halo in the rich, honeyed light. Even though it was summer, and the sun set late into the evening, Sokka was still awed that he had the chance to witness the sight before him. Zuko, warm and loose and pliant, was curled against his chest, basking in the same pleasant afterglow that had Sokka feeling so sappy. Or, more sappy than usual anyway. Still, he couldn’t help it, not with the way the light glimmered in Zuko’s hair, caught the hint of something coppery in the soft, inky strands. It shone high on his cheeks, casting delicate shadows across his smoothed, contented expression. And when he occasionally cracked open a gold eye to meet Sokka’s admiring gaze, the color in the iris glittered and spun, fluid, shimmering in the fading light. 

Sokka never thought he would be able to pry Zuko away from his work early enough to see him, their room, everything bathed in sunset. Most nights, it was torchlight that threw flickering shadows against the walls through the dark, or the pale threads of moonlight that managed to slip through the window. And while Zuko looked stunning in both, the harsher firelight catching on the lines of his jaw, his cheekbones, the moonlight unspooling in delicate silver to wash across his pale skin, there was nothing that could compare to seeing him at sunset. Especially when that came with the knowledge that he wasn’t working himself to death, crippling exhaustion traded for a more pleasantly worn out contentment, still tinged with the bleary sort of bliss he only ever got after sleeping with Sokka. 

Gently, Sokka brought a hand up to smooth over Zuko’s tangled locks, his fingers burning ever so slightly with the memory of being fisted in his hair not many moments before while Zuko’s lips had branded heat and fire into his skin. The feeling faded after a moment, though, and Sokka worked to loosen the knots and push back the sweat dampened strands from where they hung over his eyes. After a while, the soft waves, curling ever so slightly at the ends, were smooth and silky beneath his hands, and he could card effortlessly through the dark locks. 

For a moment, he thought Zuko had fallen asleep somewhere in there, with the even rise and fall of his chest, the loose, relaxed weight of his arm over Sokka’s waist. Though, when Sokka pressed a kiss to his forehead, heart feeling all warm and melty in his chest, Zuko stirred a little, eyes fluttering open. That beautiful gold gaze caught Sokka’s and for an instant, all he could do was blink back, captivated. 

“I love you so much,” Sokka breathed when his mind started working again, because it was true, because he meant it, because his heart was so full of affection that it felt ready to overflow. 

A blush dusted across Zuko’s nose, and he nuzzled into Sokka’s shoulder to hide it. But, before he could duck his head, Sokka caught the way his eyes went wide, like it was still a shock to hear, even though the words felt well worn off Sokka’s lips—they had ever since he had first said them, a handful of months ago, spilled at the training grounds when he just couldn’t hold them any longer. Still, a sincere “I love you, too,” tumbled off Zuko’s lips, a little muffled but no less appreciated for it. 

Then, Sokka could understand, a little, the surprise Zuko felt at hearing those simple little words. Because even if they never caught him off guard anymore, and he expected them almost as much as he treasured them, the feeling of it all never got old. Every time Zuko said he loved him, a loud declaration or mumbled against the skin of his shoulder, Sokka felt his breath shaken loose from his lungs, his heart tripping over itself. 

Carefully, Sokka drew Zuko out from the crook where his shoulder met his neck. Instead, he framed Zuko’s face in his hands, smoothing a thumb over his cheekbone. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. And before he knew it, words were spilling off his tongue, slow and sweet like honey. “Spirits, I wish you could see what I see. You should know how precious you are,” Sokka said, feeling like he was holding the world in his hands. And the way Zuko’s dark lashes fluttered, a breath catching in his throat, made Sokka’s head spin, all light and fuzzy. He was criminally beautiful, enchanting, stunning, and Sokka said as much. 

Every sweet, sappy affection in his heart came off his lips, even as Zuko’s blush spread to the tips of his ears and down his neck and he went quiet and still. With wide eyes, he looked lost at Sokka’s ramblings, unsure, but that wasn’t going to stop him. If anything, Sokka only doubled down on the compliments and affection, peppering the occasional kisses across his cheeks, his nose, his forehead. “You’re so perfect, Zuko,” Sokka breathed between kisses. “I just want to stay like this forever. You and me, sunsets in bed,” he sighed, wishing he could do just that. But, that seemed like a far off dream, with Zuko’s duties as Fire Lord keeping him busier than ever, and Sokka had his own list of things to attend to.

With gentle but deliberate movements, Zuko pulled Sokka’s hands down, away from his face, and instead curled into Sokka’s chest, forehead pressed into his sternum. At first, Sokka thought nothing of it, used to the way Zuko hid away when he was embarrassed. Instead, he just buried one hand in Zuko’s hair, the other running up and down his spine, tracing the notches of bone beneath warm, bared skin. “I’m never going to let you go, you know that right? You’re everything to me. Sun and stars, fire and ash, snow and sea.” Sokka hardly knew what he was saying anymore, just pouring the love from his heart. On the edges of sleep, everything felt syrupy and hazy, and even as his eyes drifted closed, he mumbled his affections into Zuko’s hair.

Only, all of a sudden, his blood turned to ice, an awful sense of dread brewing in his gut. 

Gone was the languid contentment, the relaxed ease in the way Zuko curled against him. Now, he was very tense and still, only the subtlest tremors breaking that stillness. And his breaths didn’t come easy anymore, held locked in his chest for too long before he let them go, shuddery and lurching. And while Sokka’s tired, addled head tried to make sense of all that beyond the alarm that something was wrong, he was hit with a sudden realization. Zuko’s cheeks were damp where he was pressed against Sokka’s chest. He was crying. 

In a bit of a panic, Sokka hurried to ease Zuko back just enough that he could see him. He was greeted with a red, glassy-eyed gaze and tear streaked cheeks, something stunned in Zuko’s expression. It was only an instant that Sokka could look before his heart clenched in his chest and he was cradling Zuko’s face in his palms again, wiping away tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Sokka murmured quietly, voice edged with nerves. 

Before Zuko could answer, though, Sokka tugged him close, wrapping his arms around him and tucking Zuko’s head under his chin. His heart ached, seeing Zuko cry, and suddenly all the warmth and beauty seemed sucked out of the slanted sun beams drifting through the windows. 

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” Zuko assured, voice a little shaky, a little watery. Sokka wasn’t buying it, and only hugged Zuko a little tighter, a pang of hurt resounding in his chest. 

“It’s not nothing,” Sokka insisted, firm and unwavering even if he felt a little like crying himself now. He knew Zuko, knew that talking about himself and his feelings was a hard thing for him, but it hurt to see him hurting and not know why, not be able to help. “If you’re crying, there’s a problem, and I want to fix it,” he said resolutely. Because there was nothing he wouldn’t do to see Zuko happy, to see him smile. That was a precious thing—his smile—and in Sokka’s eyes, it rivaled the sun for warm and sheer, stunning beauty. 

For a moment, Zuko just sniffed quietly, then pushed back out of Sokka’s embrace just enough to scrub at his eyes with the back of his wrist. “No, it’s not that,” he murmured. And even if his voice was still thick with emotion, Sokka was relieved at the lack of tears in his voice. Some of the panic thrumming through his veins faded away, leaving behind a steady, concerned heartbeat in its place. “It’s just...” he trailed off for a little while, struggling to put together the words. Even if Sokka wasn’t patient by nature, he held still, arms wrapped loosely around Zuko’s back, and did his very best not to rush him. That wouldn’t help either of them. 

“No one’s ever said those kinds of things to me. It’s not bad—not at all—just a lot to take in. I’ve never felt so... so loved,” he finally said, glancing up at Sokka through dark hair. There was something so vulnerable in that gaze, in the quiet rasp of his voice. With Zuko, that kind of trust was a rare, precious thing, and Sokka treasured it with all his being. Slowly, he slid a hand up Zuko’s back, burying it in the soft hair at the nape of his neck. And with a gentle touch, he tipped Zuko’s head back just enough that he could press their foreheads together and gaze into those striking, if not a little teary, eyes before he closed his own and breathed out a sigh of relief. 

“Spirits, Zuko, you scared me,” Sokka murmured. “Please don’t cry about stuff like that.” It was heartbreaking to think that something as simple as kind words—love and dedication—were such a rarity to Zuko, that he hadn’t ever known what it felt like to be loved so wholly and unconditionally. Even though Sokka had an inkling of what life with Azula and Ozai might have been liking growing up, it was always still equally amazing and horrifying to see the things that he took for granted were new to Zuko, like having someone to love and trust implicitly. Sokka had always had Katara, both of his parents when his mom was still alive, then just his dad later, even Gran-Gran, and he knew they would always be there for him if he really needed them. But Zuko didn’t have anyone like that for a long time. 

“Actually, scratch that. You can cry as much as you need to, but you better get used to this feeling because I’m not going anywhere. And I’m never going to stop telling you how much I love you, and how perfect you are, okay?” Sokka said quietly, but with all of the intensity in his heart. Because he meant every word, and Zuko needed to know it—that Sokka loved him, genuinely, wholly, irrevocably. 

For a moment, Zuko didn’t say anything, just breathed with Sokka until the rhythm of his own breaths settled and slowed to match. Then, he eased back just a little and met Sokka’s gaze. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to feeling like this,” he managed, just the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. 

“You will,” Sokka said. “You’ll be loved so much, for so long you’ll forget what it felt like not to be. I promise.”

That earned a real smile, one that had Sokka’s heart melting a little in his chest. The atmosphere around them seemed to lighten, even as the sky grew duskier outside the window, casting the room in rosy-hued shadow. Then, the curve of Zuko’s lips shifted into something a little bit sharper, but still just as earnest. He hummed a little in the back of his throat, considering. “I think I’ll hold you to that,” he said teasingly. 

“You better,” Sokka said, grinning back. “I’m committed, baby, and I always make good on my promises.” 

And, he knew, that promise was going to be an easy one to keep. If he had any say in the matter, he was going to share the rest of his life with Zuko, in whatever capacity he would have him. It was so easy to love Zuko, and Sokka was going to do his very best to be sure that Zuko knew that. No matter how long it took, he was going to make being loved a well-worn feeling. And they had all the time in the world to make that happen.


End file.
